Date: Wed, 28 Apr 2010 12:45:09 -0700 (PDT) From: erik ritler Subject: charlie at college Hello Nifty readers. Below is a side story in a series that I'm writing. It stands on its own, so it's been posted here. If you enjoy Charlie, or this story, or my writing in general, you might want to check out the main tale, Space Ship Boys, in the scifi section. Or you may want to check out my Yahoo Group. Here you will find all the stories in the series, discussions, photos, and extras. You'll also find some side stories that won't be posted elsewhere, and the group is kept ahead of other sites on new chapters. You can check that out at the link below. Anyone is free to join - we just have it set to require approval for membership to keep out the spammers. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/spaceshipboys/ I respond to all emails, and always appreciate comments, feedback, etc. I even appreciate criticism - to an extent. Feel free to contact me at erikritler@yahoo.com. In the meantime, enjoy! Charlie at College Charlie Barrett had been excited to go to college - probably more excited than he'd ever been about anything in his entire life. As is the case for many of us, college meant freedom, enough freedom to make one giddy at the thought of it, and it meant the promise of new friendships, and the beginning of an infinitely exciting journey; it meant late nights fooling around with friends eating too much ice cream, and developing strong muscles at the university's gym; it meant picking a major and joining clubs and finding new interests and getting drunk every Saturday night; it meant meeting new cool people and attending classes and learning new things and late-night cram sessions and group work and writing papers, some of them with really long sentences that seemed like run-ons but weren't. College meant all of these things, and many more, which is why Charlie's head had started swimming at the thought of it about the time he became a sophomore in high school, and his head had gone right on swimming as he worked over the next couple of years at applying to schools, passing his entrance exams, visiting campuses and finally selecting John Ducker Third Level University, a choice his parents had more than approved of. The summer after Charlie's senior year had come and gone quickly, as summers can. Things started as most summers had before, warm lazy days spent looking for fun with the high school gang, a group of six that had assembled throughout Charlie's school years and become something of an institution. Then, at the end of June, Charlie's best friend had headed off to school overseas and the gang became five. Then four, and when there were only three of them left Charlie had packed up his life into two over-sized suitcases, bid farewell to what remained of his group, and tumbled into the family SUV with his parents and one of his three brothers. The drive had seemed impossibly long, and Charlie found it to be a bit nerve- wracking. Had he chosen the right school? Would there be people there like him? Would he make friends? All of these questions and more ran circles in the boy's head as he watched miles of terrain slip silently by in the car window. And then, after passing through endless miles of desert and climbing mountains and stopping at three very popular outlet malls along the way (a fact Charlie had bemoaned), they arrived at their destination. A whirlwind of finding parking, locating the student orientation center, checking in, filling out forms, checking out, getting a dorm assignment, paying tuition, finding the right housing building and dumping Charlie's suitcases in his new room later, Charlie Barrett was officially a student of JDU, although he didn't feel completely on his own and free until the following morning when, after a late brunch, his parents wished him luck, gave the sappy speeches that parents do on these occasions, climbed into the family car once more and drove off. Somewhat exhausted by all the recent activity, Charlie returned to his assigned dorm, a two hundred and twenty five square foot room on the tenth floor of a somewhat drab grey concrete building. Closing the door behind him, an empty room occupied by two twin beds, two study desks, and two large closets greeted Charlie. The room empty, smelling slightly of cleaning solution and juniper, Charlie could not help but feel that this moment - this exact moment - was the beginning of something new and exciting and awesome. He reflected that maybe everything in recent days, the car trip, the lengthy good-byes back home, his last summer with friends - maybe even his entire life - had been leading up to this one single moment in time. And an awesome moment it was. Charlie had actually arrived on campus a week earlier than most of his fellow freshmen due to an extra orientation required by his academic program, which really just meant two-hour meetings every morning from ten to noon. After these were over, Charlie was free to roam the campus and discover all the college had to offer. It is a strange time for colleges - those days between semesters when things are quiet. Only a couple hundred students had arrived for the fall semester, and so the campus had felt a little lonely, but still bristling with a kinetic energy. Charlie had taken advantage of his early arrival to thoroughly explore the school. He'd visited most every library, explored the school cafeterias and local eateries, and learned where the gyms were. He'd been pleased one afternoon to locate a racquetball court that was located in a second sub-basement of what had at one time been a PE building (but now housed the math department for some unknown reason). This was an odd but exciting discovery, and Charlie wondered if there would be any sneaking in late at night with his new college friends for drunken racquetball. Whether or not there would be drunken racquetball, Charlie found himself wondering what his new friends would be like. Well, he assumed there would be new friends, or else college was going to be completely boring. As the week passed, Charlie found himself eager for the day when the majority of the student body arrived, when the college would come alive in earnest. He was also eager for the day when his new roommate, Harrison Vallis, would arrive. Like many universities, JDU employed a totally random roommate selection process for freshmen. In mid-July, Charlie had received a letter with his housing assignment and the contact information for his assigned roommate. At first he'd stared at the phone number printed next to 'VALLIS, HARRISON A', wondering if there wasn't a misprint. There seemed to be a few too many digits. Then Charlie noticed that the mailing address for Harrison stated that he lived in London. This had seemed very cool at the time. Charlie was a somewhat shy boy, and held on to his room assignment sheet for a while, considering whether he should call Harrison up or not. It seemed kind of odd, calling someone you'd never met and introducing yourself as the person you'd be living with for the next eight months. Charlie wasn't quite sure how to start that conversation, so he'd delayed for a week and a half trying to figure out how to introduce himself to Harrison. One afternoon his mother called him to the kitchen. Charlie assumed he was about to get scolded for the rather raucous conversation he and his friends had been having about the recent death of a pop star. Instead, she'd handed him the house cell. "Phone's for you." "Hello," Charlie'd answered, laughter still at the back of his throat from a friend's joke about floating silicone implants. "Um, hello," responded a voice with a distinguishably British accent, "is this Charlie Barrett then?" Charlie instantly knew this must be his new roommate, but somehow the exact appropriate introduction still escaped the boy. "Um, yeah, hello, this is Charlie." The other voice sounded a little nervous as well. "Ah, good. Well, hi, this is Harrison Vallis. I don't know if you got your room package from JDU yet, but I guess we're scheduled to be roommates at uni." "Um, yeah, I just got that yesterday," Charlie lied, "So anyway, hi. It's nice to meet you. I mean, over the phone at least." "Yeah, likewise," Harrison answered back. The initial moments of the conversation were a little awkward, to be sure, but neither boy was completely socially inept and they managed. Charlie wandered to his room with the phone in hand, first telling Harrison a little about himself - where he was from, his selected major, etc. - then Harrison talking a little about himself, about playing water polo in high school, how London was different from the states, and so on. Some roommate assignments go badly, but this wasn't the case for Charlie and Harrison. Although the boys weren't in the same programs or studying the same subjects (or from the same country for that matter), they did have several things in common, and both boys found the other to be rather easy-going and agreeable. That initial call had lasted about an hour, and when Charlie had returned to the living room his friends had demanded that he tell them all about Harrison. As Charlie was relaying whatever information he could remember, his mother had come into the room and Charlie had had to start all over. Over the following month the boys had talked over the phone occasionally, both getting to know one another and figuring out important details. For example, they needed to figure out who was going to bring a television, stereo and Playstation. Charlie had assumed that he would be bringing anything large, given that he lived about ten thousand miles closer to campus than Harrison. As it turned out, Harrison had family in the United States, and they'd agreed to provide a 50-inch television that sounded far larger and cooler than the 22-inch television Charlie had planned on bringing. Harrison was completely agreeable to Charlie bringing his considerable collection of games, however. This turned out to be a good thing. For some reason, Charlie's parents were immediately taken with Harrison, despite never having actually talked to him. They were dubious about Charlie taking any video games to college at all, but when the boy had explained that Harrison wanted them there the concept became immediately accepted. Go figure. So the two had become friends, in a way, and Charlie looked forward to meeting his new roommate, which he did on his fifth night on campus. Charlie had entered his dorm room to find another boy there, standing in the center of the room in jeans and a jacket that seemed a little too warm for the weather that day. Charlie had been rather startled to find someone else there. Not really for any particular reason, he'd just been the only occupant on his floor for several days, and it was surprising to find someone else around. The other boy turned at Charlie's surprise gasp. He was tall and lean, with brown hair, a clean look and eyes that immediately struck Charlie as kind. For some reason, he struck Charlie as very all-American, which is odd only in that he wasn't. "Are you Charlie?" the boy had asked in a moderately thick South London accent. "Um, yeah. I mean, yeah, I'm Charlie," he'd responded, immediately thinking that the boys' second introduction was going about as awkwardly as the first. "I'm Harrison," Harrison replied, stating the somewhat obvious. Once again the pair was beset by a conversation with a discomfited start. But it didn't last, and once Charlie had asked about Harrison's flight and in turn relayed a couple of anecdotes about his own journey to the college, the boys fell into easier flowing conversation. "I hope you don't mind, I've been sleeping on that bed," Charlie said, pointing to one of the two twin beds, "but I'm fine with whatever. I didn't put any posters up or anything. I figured I'd wait until you got here." "Cool, cause I wanted to make sure there was space for my Karen Carpenter pin- ups," Harrison retorted slyly. "I don't know who that is," he'd responded. "Ah. Yeah. I don't really actually have any posters of Karen Carpenter. I was joking. Well, then," Harrison had mumbled, a slight vein of awkwardness returning to the room. Over the following two days the boys had arranged their room to their liking. The first night they'd discovered that the beds were made to stack as bunks if you liked, and since Harrison's American cousins were due to deliver his rather large entertainment center the following afternoon, the boys had both agreed this was the best route to go. Half the room would be for sleeping, the other half for kick- ass movies and video games. What more could college boys want? The entertainment center came and the American cousins went, but not before being thanked a million times by the two boys. Harrison did get some band posters, but less stuff like The Carpenters and more like modern Brit rock. Charlie had never heard of some of the groups, but the posters were cool. And as was inevitable, on the actual official move-in day, the campus was besieged by college students and what had been an atmosphere of regal learning became a chaotic torrent of noise and activity. The dorm filled up, new students met one another, made friends and formed small groups, then met other groups and made more friends. Alcohol was consumed, classes began, and the semester was off to a start. For Charlie, things were a bit of a whirlwind. He'd loaded his class schedule, not really considering that college classes are four times as much work as high school, and he found himself immediately buried in work. Harrison had done the same, although in very different subjects. Life moved fast, and before long the newness of everything wore off and routine set in, albeit a fun routine. It turned out that Charlie and Harrison had different schedules, but this ended up being a good thing. Harrison took early morning courses, well, early for a college student, where Charlie's ran later in the afternoon and early evening. As a result, Charlie found that he liked staying up rather late, usually until three o'clock, which was a good two hours after Harrison would turn in. In turn, Harrison got up around eight, well before Charlie rose. In some cases this might have caused tension, but both boys were heavy sleepers and very respectful of their friend. They became accustomed to meeting up after classes and playing video games before stuffing themselves at the cafeteria, and they worked out a system where Charlie could do his homework after Harrison went to bed without bothering the other boy. It was about two weeks after Harrison arrived that Charlie discovered a small problem with dorm life. Well, maybe a big problem. Charlie had grown up with brothers, so he was no stranger to sharing a space. However, he hadn't shared a room since he was ten. As such, throughout his adolescence he'd had the privacy needed to do the types of things adolescents do in private. To be blunt, Charlie liked to jerk off, as most teens do, and had been doing it every night at bedtime for years. With porn, without, in long, slow sessions or a frantic wank, it didn't really matter, the kid loved it (as most do). Once the newness of college wore off, Charlie's body soon noticed that it was being deprived and began screaming out for relief, particularly at night upon crawling into bed. Charlie tried to adapt, his first solution being to move his self-pleasuring into the bathroom, where the private toilet and shower stalls afforded more privacy. This worked for quick relief at first, but it wasn't all that fun. The second solution had been to take advantage of times when Charlie knew Harrison would be out at class. This also had its disadvantages - it meant getting up in the morning for an early jerk, which Charlie didn't really like. He also didn't feel that comfortable whipping it out in the room. Although he knew Harrison's class schedule well, the nagging sensation that his friend might come home early made masturbation in the room more nerve-wracking than pleasurable. And so a month passed, Charlie making new friends, joining new groups, finding his niche in this new world, but stuck in a perpetual state of horny dissatisfaction. Charlie wasn't stupid, and knew the best solution was probably to talk to Harrison and work something out. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. Still, he tried broaching the subject from time to time. "So, any girlfriends back in secondary?" he'd asked one evening during a study break. "Yeah. You know, here and there. Nothing too serious, but here and there," Harrison responded, looking up from a thickly bound book. Charlie could imagine that Harrison had had his share of dates. The guy was thin, but he worked out and played several sports and was well defined. Surprisingly defined, Charlie had learned the first time he'd seen his roomie shirtless. For his part, Charlie still had a youthful body that was strong and lean, but he didn't quite have the musculature of manhood yet. Harrison definitely did. "The kind you have sex with?" he asked. He'd meant to ask how many Harrison had slept with, but the question came out retarded. Harrison laughed at the weird phrasing. "No, mate, the kind you trade for oil with middle eastern countries. Yeah the 'kind you have sex with', wanker." Charlie smiled at the insult, and although they'd talked a little about dating before college, Charlie was thrown and unable to bring up masturbation that day. Another evening the boys had been eating dinner in the lunchroom (taco night!) when Harrison brought up a girl he'd met from across town, one that seemed to have a pretty good chest from the way Harrison described it. "And oh my god," he'd said, "I swore I was about to run to the loo and blow a load when she left." Charlie's ears perked up at the obvious reference to masturbation. "AHA!" he'd thought to himself, "He does jerk off!" Then the teen internally chided himself for getting excited about such an obvious discovery. Of course Harrison jerked off (or wanked, as he put it). The problem was coordinating two teenage boys' needs, not figuring out what they were. And yet Charlie wasted yet another opportunity, too timid to delve into the subject. Still, as he thought more about his needs, it made the youth think more about Harrison. If Charlie was horned up, Harrison probably was too, and that made Charlie think about a lot of stuff. How often did he do it normally? Had Charlie ever almost caught him, walking in just after pants were raised? What was Harrison's dick like, and how did he like to do it? The two were intimately close in most regards, being roommates, and questions like these seemed perfectly natural to Charlie. Still, with his Britishness and all, Harrison seemed either disinclined or unwilling to talk too much about his own personal experiences with his new friend. Charlie considered that although they spoke the same language and came from similar backgrounds, England was, after all, still a different country, and the slightly different culture could make Harrison hard to read sometimes. So things went, both boys in the prime of their adolescence and both (Charlie presumed) slightly put off their self-sex schedules by the presence of the other boy. Charlie eventually decided to stick to shower time jerks, which sucked, but were private. He figured Harrison would do the same and that the subject of self- pleasuring would never come up. Then things changed one night, and mostly it was a result of Charlie not being able to take it any more. There's only so long a healthy teenager can deal with blue balls, then they usually go crazy. Harrison had turned in around midnight, climbing up into the top bunk and immediately falling asleep, as was his custom. Charlie clacked away at his keyboard for the next several hours, occasionally reflecting that there was some benefit to having a sound sleeper for a roomie. Harrison had never complained when Charlie worked late, he never asked for the lights to be turned down, and never seemed to be disturbed by any noise Charlie made while working. The paper Charlie was working on took a turn for the worse, and about 3:30 the boy realized that what he was writing was getting lower and lower in quality and substance. "Everything I am now writing is complete garbage," he typed, watching as the black letters appeared on the white screen. An image passed through his mind of a magic hamster living inside the display and putting up each letter like a scorekeeper in an old-time baseball game, and it was about this time that the youth recognized that if he was thinking about magic scorekeeping hamster typographers that it was time to get some sleep. Charlie climbed into his bunk, exhausted, and, he now realized, a little sore from sitting at the computer for so long. And a little cold. He curled into a ball. The room was dark - pitch black. It was something Charlie hadn't yet become accustomed to. Back home the city put up enough ambient light that his room has always had a little light, even in the middle of the night. But here it got dark at night - really dark. He liked it, but it was also sort of odd. Charlie's right hand always seemed to get cold after a long night at the computer, so he pressed it into his chest, enjoying the sensation of his hand warming, but also the coolness of his fingers. His thumb brushed against his nipple through the fabric of his t-shirt, and as is sometimes the case with teenage boys, this light innocuous touch was all it took to result in a flush of hormones that immediately returned Charlie's thoughts to his sexual frustrations. "Dammit," the youth muttered to himself, instantly aware of the sensuality of his young frame. His body wanted - it was, in fact, made - to get off three or four times a day, and the occasional lackluster jerk-offs in the shower and toilet were not meeting its needs - not by a long shot. He pondered that if he and Harrison lived in a bathroom with an adjacent bedroom things might be better. They'd hang out in the shower all day, and occasionally visit the bedroom for privacy. It was an idea that made no sense at all, even to Charlie in his exhausted and aroused state, and if the musing failed to make sense, well, at least there wasn't a hamster involved this time. Charlie slipped his hand downwards, pressing it against his crotch, where his penis had already formed the tumescent boner that would remain throughout the night. The flush of hormones had brought it to 115% of its erectable state, if that's possible, and it struck Charlie that his penis seemed to wait with endless anticipation for bedtime, whereupon it would leap to attention as if to scream its happy approval at the prospect of sleepy-time. Charlie had been in this state before at college - in fact, he'd been in this state most nights since coming to room with Harrison. Every evening before this one he'd rolled over, pressed his bone into the most comfy position possible, and fallen to sleep, if not sexually satisfied then at the very least comforted by the gentle chirping of a cricket that lived outside their bedroom window. Tonight, however, he'd had enough, and didn't feel at all open to the idea of not getting off. Nor was he open to a late-night bathroom sneak - the awaiting tile floor seeming a little too cold and the dank bathroom a little too sterile to be remotely bearable. In a motion that was swift and coordinated, Charlie's thumb and index finger manipulated his underwear so that his erection sprang free through the fly. It is not an easy sensation to describe, but if one has ever been a teenage male, and if one has ever been denied sexual satisfaction for any length of time, then perhaps you would know that the feeling of the open air on a sexually-deprived erection can be one of the most erotic sensations in a young man's life, possibly more arousing than even the ministrations of the most accomplished lover. At least, it seemed so to Charlie now, and he gasped lightly as his boner popped free, considering that if he were a few years younger he might have orgasmed right then. Being in his late teens, he had the insurmountable self-control that is legendary amongst college-aged boys, and therefore was sure to last at least two or three minutes. Charlie reached down and slowly stroked his now-free erection. Hormones coursed through his body, pleasure stabbing at his brain in erotic waves. This was what he loved, he considered, touching himself under the covers all warm and snuggly at night, sleep standing as sentry and ready to take him once he climaxed. And climax did not take long. After mere moments, the boy's expert hand brushed his shaft just right along the underside, and the touch set into motion that ballet between muscular contraction and nerve endings that quickly and silently creep southward on a body until they meet at the crux. Charlie's balls pulled up while his muscles contracted, preparing to do their duty. "Ergh," the teen grunted, conscientious of making as little noise as possible. Normally he would cum into a sock or tissue, but this hadn't been a planned session and he was more focused on not making any noise. He pressed his face into his pillow to prevent any further audible sounds, and tried to keep his hands from stroking his cock too hard, lest it make the telltale squishing noise that boners can. Despite being resigned to silence, it was a pretty good cum. His face firmly planted into his pillowcase, Charlie's turgid member pulsed once and then let loose with stream after stream of hot, white spunk. He coo'd as gently as possible into the pillow, but in his mind it felt like a fireworks show had been let loose. Charlie's semen shot out to his left, hitting his stomach, side, the top sheet, the bottom sheet - basically it seemed to get everywhere all at once. As Charlie's orgasm subsided, he was immediately acutely aware that he'd just done what he'd promised himself he wouldn't, and even though Harrison was soundly asleep he was a little embarrassed. At least, he thought Harrison was soundly asleep. As Charlie rolled over, trying to get his breathing under control and resigning himself to sleeping in a sticky puddle of rapidly cooling boy juice (which was somewhere between erotic and really gross to the youth), he heard a rustling from the bunk above. Charlie immediately snapped to attention, sure that he was busted. His heart rate sky-rocketed and his body flushed with warmth. It is not completely known why teenagers have such a reaction to being caught doing something sexual. Perhaps it stems from a fear of mockery, or perhaps evolution has programmed us to show extra care when naked, and therefore vulnerable. Whatever the reason, Charlie was quite sure that his pounding pulse could be heard from at least three blocks away. And so Charlie found himself in a game that has been practiced in many colleges for many years all over the world. He listened intently for any sounds in the bunk above, manic about not making any noise in his own bed. Suddenly he heard something - wait, no, that was his pulse pounding in his ears. Harrison didn't seem awake - at least he didn't make any further noise that night, although it didn't keep Charlie from staying up until well past four, paranoid that his momentary lapse has resulted in his getting caught. Eventually he drifted off to sleep, and when he awoke the next morning, a light crust coating his lower abdomen and clumping the downy hairs there, he still wondered if he'd been overheard. Harrison had long left for class, however, and somehow waking in an empty room was comforting, and Charlie pushed the issue aside to focus on Advance Statistics. That afternoon, Charlie took advantage of an hour break between classes to check out a library he'd heard about that he'd missed during that first week at school. The college had twenty of them, and since he'd never had a need to borrow a book from the Asian Philosophy Center, he'd never visited this particular building. The library was an architectural gem - a brick and stone affair that seemed both classical and modern, a merging of east and west, the renaissance and the computer age. But for Charlie, as he entered the vaulted chamber, the smell of old books hanging daintily on the air and the afternoon sun beaming proudly through the iron-and-glass windows along the west wall, the room represented more than architecture. Colleges can be mystical places - they are, after all, the storehouses of mankind's progress, and they are attended by an endless stream of youths, each entering the institution with boundless energies of hopeful promise, dreams of lives and adventures yet unfulfilled. Charlie felt a welling of emotion at the sight, and tears may have come to his eyes if his thoughts hadn't been interrupted by a somewhat loud snore. Charlie looked to his left to see a floppy-haired upper classman asleep in a large leather chair. It seemed that not everyone remained in endless impression at the atmosphere. "Great, Zane's asleep again," a hushed voice spoke. It belonged to a student at a nearby table, one surrounded by a mountain of books. "Just let him sleep, this project will go faster without him, honestly," another boy responded. Charlie recognized the second as a boy named Devon Chasen - he was in Charlie's biology class. The other was a friend Charlie had seen Devon hanging out with frequently. He thought he might be Devon's roommate. And it was the thought of roommates that brought Charlie's mind wandering back to thoughts of the previous night. He'd really enjoyed jerking off, and he wished his room were available for it more often, especially at night. He sighed deeply. As long as Harrison were around, that didn't seem like a probability. These thoughts danced around in Charlie's head all afternoon, making him miss a good portion of two different lectures. Thankfully they'd be uploaded to the net so he could watch them later. That night, things got weirder. Charlie was determined to put wanking out of his mind. Harrison had been home when Charlie returned from class, and things seemed completely normal between them, so Charlie assumed his performance the night before hadn't been witnessed. He was glad for that, for some reason, and decided not to press his luck by making late-night masturbation a habit. Harrison went to bed around midnight, and as usual Charlie stayed up until he could hardly keep his eyes open. Crawling between his sheets, he once again curled into a ball, this time keeping his hands well away from his erogenous zones. Charlie was drifting away when he heard a noise in the room. At first he thought it might be his own heartbeat again, but when he listened a little harder it was clear that there was a rustling coming from above. At first Charlie assumed that it was Harrison tossing in his sleep, but then it went on a little too long. It instantly struck Charlie that there was the very real possibility that Harrison was doing exactly the same thing he'd been the night before. And so began the second round of the game. As Charlie lay in complete silence, he listened to the noises above to try and determine whether they were normal sleep noises, restlessness, maybe sniffles, or maybe something a little more exciting. If Harrison were playing with himself, he probably assumed that Charlie was fast asleep, so Charlie was very aware of making sure this seemed to be the case. He breathed as shallowly as possible, listening and staring into the darkness of the room. It was immensely frustrating, but it never became clear to Charlie what was happening in the upper bunk. The noises Harrison made were mostly indistinguishable, and while Charlie swore he heard a muffled 'ah!' shortly before they stopped, later he considered this particular sound had been fabricated by his imagination. The third night, the scene was repeated. Again Harrison went to bed earlier than Charlie, and again once the other boy finally turned in there was a rustling in the bunk above. Charlie laid below staring up at the metal cross work of the bed, listening to his friend. This time, there was substantially more evidence that Harrison was engaging in that all-important boy act. The bed creaked a couple of times and the rustling was louder. Once things calmed down and the room fell silent, Charlie unhappily reflected upon the fact that he was immeasurably turned on, but too scared to do anything about it. If Harrison had been beating off, it seemed weird to do the same after he finished. If he hadn't, Charlie was terrified of getting caught. On the fourth night the telltale rustling began again from above once Charlie had gone to bed, and again he was pretty sure that Harrison was getting off a mere three feet away. This turned him on, but also annoyed him, and Charlie huffed to himself. "Enough is enough," he thought. The dilemma Charlie faced was that he didn't want Harrison to know he was listening, lest the other boy be offended or embarrassed. At the same time, it was impossible for Charlie to imagine that he could stand not getting off night after night while others, particularly Harrison, did. If his roomie got to jerk at night, he should too. Slowly, trying to make as little noise as possible, Charlie hooked his thumbs into the waist band of his briefs and slid them down, allowing his now-turgid erection to pop free. Listening for any sign that he was disturbing Harrison, or that the other boy was aware that Charlie too was engaging in nighttime play, Charlie began very lightly stroking himself. Soon he was enveloped in the throes of passion and lust, and pleasure was washing over his thin frame. He loved the feel of his hand on his shaft, the way that it so-easily slipped up and over the wetted bell-end. Each time he came to this more sensitive area pangs of pleasure exploded in his mind, and his youthful body screamed out in approval of the act. Suddenly, the room was completely silent, and Charlie stopped his self- ministrations. It crossed his mind that perhaps Harrison had overheard him, and that maybe his roommate hadn't been masturbating at all. Charlie flushed between the sheets, sure once again he'd done something foolish and was about to be caught and mocked. It felt like five minutes, but the room was actually quiet only a few seconds before the noises above resumed. This time, the sounds were more obviously sexual, and Charlie could make out the light slap-slap-slap of flesh on flesh. Any doubt about what was going on above was erased. Whether or not Harrison had overheard Charlie, he was certainly jerking off, and more fervently than before. The hormones and adrenaline rushing through Charlie's body hit him all at once. The fear of being caught, the excitement at doing something forbidden, the lust of a needful body. These pushed him deeper into boy heat, and he returned to his own erection with wanton desire. It no longer felt like the act needed to be quite so secret. If Harrison could slap it audibly, Charlie felt like he should be able to enjoy himself. He brought his heels together and pulled them up towards his body as far as possible, stretching his knees apart and allowing his boner to press outwards. This was his favorite position for bedtime jerking, and he flushed with pleasure as he stroked himself in his preferred manner. Round three of the roommate game proceeded, this time Charlie certain that Harrison was jerking off and Harrison almost certainly knowing that Charlie was doing that same. Charlie would pause to listen to his roommate occasionally, and occasionally the sounds above would pause as Charlie stroked. Rustling became slapping, slapping became creaking, and creaking became squishing as both boys worked themselves with increased intensity. Eventually, a series of sighs emanated from above. "Ah, ah, ah," Harrison lightly moaned. An image of the hot boy and what he was doing flashed through Charlie's mind, his imagination filling in all the tantalizing underwear bits he'd never seen before. The fantasy, coupled with the reality of his own stroking, was too much. It sent him immediately and wildly over the edge. "URGGHH..." Charlie panted, a little louder than he intended. His dick exploded, but this time he was able to point it in a better direction, and although hot semen landed in streams on his stomach, at least it didn't go everywhere. "Ahhhh....shit...yeah...." Harrison grunted above. Clearly he'd also been on edge, and Charlie's obvious cum had sent him over. For the first time in his life, Charlie realized how sexy and erotic a male orgasm can sound, especially when you helped cause it. Not a word spoken, once they were finished both boys rolled over and went to sleep. The next morning Charlie woke to find Harrison gone, already at his early class, and went about his own busy day. That afternoon the two hung out, playful and filled with the banter that college roommates share, but neither mentioning the previous night. After bedtime, Charlie began playing with himself, now more comfortable with masturbating in bed, and it wasn't long before Harrison joined in above. Both boys came and fell fast asleep. And this is how things progressed for two weeks. Charlie found himself able to concentrate better in class, and his body was clearly quite happy at not being quite so sexually deprived any longer. He and Harrison became better friends, and although nothing really changed on the surface there was a closeness there that hadn't been before. Laughter came more freely between the two, big grins exchanged more often. One afternoon Charlie came home early to find Harrison finishing up what was apparently a really difficult paper. "Dude, this class is going to kill me," the boy had proclaimed in frustration, packing up his study gear. Charlie smiled in sympathy. He was sure Harrison would live through Western Literature just fine. Still, it must be taking its toll. Harrison was dressed in a white tank, boxer shorts and a pair of long white socks. It wasn't abnormal for the British boy to dress in his underwear when studying, but Charlie found it more amusing to consider that the difficulty of the class had resulted in the loss of his clothing somehow. Usually Charlie completed his homework immediately upon returning home - he had little choice with his class load. Today, however, Harrison managed to corral him into an afternoon of video games. It was Friday, after all, his friend had argued, and he'd just written the hardest paper of his life. The two teens laid sideways on Charlie's bunk, arms hanging off the end of the bed so as to have maximum control of the joystick. The conversation was light and friendly, broken the way that boy talk can be. "I have no idea why this TA is soooo frigging snotty..." "Yeah, my engineering TA is like that..." "I am soooo going to kick your scrawny white ass for that - I was totally going for that guy..." "This is your game, don't blame me if you suck..." "What the hell was the deal with dessert last night? I swear those cafeteria wenches are trying to kill us..." "I know - kiwi AND avocado? Nasty..." "I have GOT to get into shape for water polo season. We should start lifting together..." "Yeah...maybe." It was the kind of lazy afternoon that Charlie really missed. High school had been filled with them. College was considerably more work. Playing their game side by side, staring at Harrison's television (for which Charlie was very grateful to have in the room), Charlie suddenly became aware that as they were playing, Harrison had begun to very subtly grind his hips into the mattress. Charlie wouldn't have noticed it except that each time Harrison did it the mattress lowered slightly. Charlie was lying a little further back from the television than Harrison, so it wasn't too difficult to sneak a glance or to at his friend to confirm the motion. It wasn't anything overt, just a very subtle rocking motion. Still, because the two had been jerking off in the same room at night for two weeks Charlie was hyper- sensitive to this sort of thing, and whether Harrison was grinding an erection into the mattress or just rocking while he played, the thought that it might be the former was enough to get Charlie immediately boned, and the boy was soon very aware of his own hardened tool mashed into the bed. Charlie pressed up and then down like he friend was. His dick had grown hard in a downward pointing direction, unfortunately, and being squashed between the bed, two layers of clothing, and Charlie's body, there wasn't room for it to move into its normal upward pointing direction. It was a little painful, actually. Trying to concentrate on the game and not let Harrison see what he was doing, Charlie reached his left hand under his body to adjust himself. The maneuver was swift and practiced, but it didn't successfully evade Harrison's notice, as the older boy smirked and gave a sideways glance at his friend. The nighttime jerk-offs gave both boys a sense of familiarity and comfort with one another that otherwise might not have been there, and it was this that prompted Harrison to grind his hips into the bed with a little more force and frequency as they played. It still wasn't overtly sexual, but Charlie smiled a little at the movement next to him. And he was very aware of his own body. It is a very comfortable feeling to have one's erection snuggled up against one's tummy, at least if you are shaped correctly, and Charlie's 45-degree pointing tool was almost ideal for this type of humping. It was therefore that he couldn't resist joining his friend in thrusting, at first a little shyly, but then a little more pronounced. Harrison looked Charlie directly in the eye and smiled. It startled the teen at first, as if some line had been crossed, but then he relaxed and smiled back. The two boys got a little sloppier at their game as they focused a little more on their bodies, but they didn't stop playing. Harrison scooted back on the bed so that he was level with Charlie, and began rocking back and forth against the sheets a full three or four inches as he played. Charlie followed suit, and soon the two were humping the sheets in a slow, steady rhythm. Suddenly, Charlie's dick found a rivet in his jeans and brushed up against it through his underwear. It would have hurt without the layer of cotton between flesh and metal, but in this case the sensation was unexpected and really good. "Oh!" Charlie involuntarily exclaimed. Harrison didn't know specifically to what Charlie was referring, but he was feeling the same way about his own movement. "I know, mate, awesome isn't it? I was going to wait until tonight, but check it out." The teenager set his controller aside for a moment and lifted himself into pushup position. Charlie looked over to see that Harrison's dick had worked its way out of the fly in his boxers and had been rubbing back and forth against the bed sheet. Charlie had brothers, and he'd seen porn. An erect dick wasn't something completely unfamiliar to him, but this was different. This was Harrison - his friend, his roommate, the sexy water polo player with the perfect chest. Charlie had sometimes wondered what Harrison's assets looked like, and now he knew. Harrison's dick was shorter than Charlie's, maybe a little under six, but it was thicker. "Nice," Charlie responded, not sure what else to say. The boys smiled at each other as Harrison lowered himself back onto the bed. Resuming their game (and humping), it now didn't see quite so fair or satisfactory that Charlie be confined to his jeans. He was a little reluctant about disrobing at all, but Harrison was nearly nude and Charlie didn't assume his friend would mind THAT much if he followed suit. Setting aside his own controller (which resulted in the loss of a few points), Charlie moved to push his jeans down while remaining in a prone position on the mattress. He'd intended to only lower his pants, but since he was pressed into the bed so tightly, both his jeans and undies slipped downward, and he was suddenly aware of the cool air of the room against now-naked buttocks. Harrison glanced over but didn't say anything. "Oh well," Charlie thought, more happy about his boner being free and pressed against the soft sheets than embarrassed at his butt waiving in the air. The grinding was WAY better without pants, and both boys took to it more earnestly than before, still playing their game, as if this somehow negated any sexual tension between the two (and it sort of did). "Uh...uh...this feels so good," Harrison grunted, his movements becoming a little more intense. "Yeah," Charlie agreed, gasping himself. The huskiness of Harrison's voice was really turning Charlie on, and the teen considered that the noises from above at night had been equally exciting. "Nice ass," Harrison stated. "Thanks," Charlie responded. "Uh...nice dick." Harrison flashed a bright smile at the compliment, showing off his ultra-white teeth. He paused a moment, pulling his tank over his head before resuming the grinding. The maneuver gave Charlie another thorough glance at Harrison's cock. Charlie again felt it a little unfair that he was more dressed, and pulled off his own shirt and hoodie, making sure that Harrison had the same opportunity to check out his dick, which the other boy took advantage of. Charlie was still wearing his jeans and briefs, albeit they were down around his thighs, but he felt totally naked and a slight pang of embarrassment washed over the boy. But it didn't last long. A milestone had been reached, and both boys were immensely turned on now. A race ensued to remove all remaining clothing - a race Charlie won simply because he wore shorter socks, which were more easily removed. The two college boys were now totally naked, which was exciting, but they also felt protected somehow, probably because they were keeping their most secret parts pressed firmly in the bed under them. The pretense of being interested in the game was upheld, although they didn't try too hard and it didn't stop them from overtly looking at one another from time to time. "This is...ah..ah..cool," Charlie moaned. "Yeah...like I said, was going to wait until tonight....sorry...ah...got horny." "No....uh...uh...problem," Charlie chuckled, "The...ergh...late night wanks have been a lifesaver." "I'm...oh jeez...glad you finally joined me. I was afraid you were getting pissed off....AH...gasp...and I was going to go back to wanking in the loo." "No...urg...wow...I was just scared to do it in here until I knew that's what you were doing." Charlie noted that the two boys preferred slightly different movements. Harrison was pulling himself back and forth, making long, steady strokes against the sheets. Charlie enjoyed a little more up-and-down movement, his boner springing up and down with each thrust. "Dude, seriously...sigh...your ass is so hot the way it flexes like that." Charlie felt the same way, searching for words to describe the manner in which Harrison's youthful backside flexed and twisted as he rolled back and forth. What came out was rather lackluster, if not lusty. "Yeah...ohmygod...you too...ugh." It was hot, it was intimate, and most of all it was fun. Playing the game, allowing themselves to last as long as possible, the grinding making this easier than hands would have been. "This is...uh...uh...uh...so awesome...so hot." "No...grunt....kidding...you're so hot dude...this feels so good." And eventually things came to an end. Harrison's rocking became more and more frantic, his grunts and moans a little more primal. Charlie followed suit, watching his friend as the boy's body flushed red. Charlie swore that he could feel the heat pulsing off his roommate's body. "OH JEEZ," Harrison gasped, dropping his controller and clenching the mattress in two fists. "URG..AHHHHHHHH!" The boy exclaimed a little too loudly, obviously beset by a fitful climax. This was all it took for Charlie. His own body tensed and he began stabbing at the mattress in short, frantic thrusts that he sometimes used at the end. "YES YES YES YES YES!" he panted and came, came and panted. He felt his semen spray out beneath him, landing on the sheets and then coating his tummy on his downward thrusts. "Oh god, oh god, oh god," Harrison panted and moaned, continuing his orgasm while watching his friend cum. The two had heard each other climax on several occasions now, but this was different. This was right next to one another in the lit room, looking one another directly in the eyes, faces screwed up in a twisted contortion of pleasure, and it was HOT. The boys finished and calmed down, remaining facedown on the bed. Charlie crossed his arms under his chin, rather content and proud of himself. "Thanks mate," Harrison said, "I sooooo needed that after that paper." Charlie chuckled. "Me too. I mean, you know, without the paper." Harrison lifted himself and sat up. There was a pronounced puddle of white fluid where he'd been laying. Charlie sat up as well, finding his side of the bed in the same condition. "Great," he sighed in a tone that signified frustration but not real anger, "and on my bed." "Sorry mate," Harrison replied. A porn movie would have ended here, fading to black or another steamy scene (or an advertisement for penis enlargement cream). Even in mainstream films a sex scene is usually followed by the couple falling asleep. But in the real world, teenage boys' bodies don't just shut down after cumming. This was particularly evident in both Harrison and Charlie, who were both still very much erect. Charlie considered that he was, as ever, jealous of Harrison's perfect chest. The kid might be only a couple pounds heavier than Charlie, but he had definition. Charlie wondered if a million strokes in the college pool would do that to his chest, which he felt was flat and unimpressive. He was, however, proud of his dick, which he could now see was at least an inch or two longer than Harrison's. Not that Harrison was tiny, and his thick shaft suited his thin body really well, jutting forward at an alluring angle. Staring at his roommate's torso, Charlie was suddenly aware that Harrison was staring back. And then he was aware that he was lightly toughing himself again, his member half slick and half sticky from his recent orgasm. And then Harrison was touching his own dick. And then the two boys were on their knees stroking themselves, mere inches from one another. Charlie was a shy boy, so later he would wonder why this didn't apply to this moment in time. Not so much the jerking in front of Harrison, which he'd eased himself into over a matter of weeks, but more the part where he reached out to feel Harrison's shaft. At the time it just seemed like the thing to do. Harrison's erection was indeed thicker than Charlie's and it somehow felt significantly heftier in his hand. Not at all flinching, Harrison sighed and reached forward, lightly brushing Charlie's own erection. The sensation was amazing - someone else touching you while fondling someone else. The boys mutually masturbated a bit, helping the other along by guiding their exploratory hands with their free ones, making sure the other boy touched them in all the right places. Charlie loved having Harrison's fingers brush up and down along the underside of his erection, where Harrison clearly enjoyed having Charlie grope and twist his precum slickened head. "Oh my god, this is totally better," Charlie gasped. "Yeah," Harrison agreed. He seemed about to say something when Charlie decided to rather forcefully run Harrison's tip between his fingers. The movement seemed to do the trick. "Oh! Ahhhh.ah...ah...ah," Charlie's roommate groaned. "Wow...cool...jeez oh jeez." "Yeah...uh...uh...right there." It didn't take too long before this session too came to an end. "Ohh. Ohhhhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh-AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Charlie gasped, spewing another load up onto his stomach. "Sweet!" Harrison smiled. Between his own ecstasy and convulsions Charlie began fisting Harrison's rod harder. The other boy buckled, stopped in midsentence by an onset of orgasm. "I think...oh..ah..GOD!" Harrison's second load erupted forth, crossing the distance easily and landing with a splat on Charlie's stomach. The two teenagers finished and allowed their breathing to return to normal. It had been a sexy afternoon, but one of many that was to follow for the two. Charlie and Harrison never became lovers, per se, but they did become what we might refer to as wank-off buddies, sharing orgasms with abandon each night before bed, often in the morning, very often in the afternoon, and sometimes out in public places. There was something easy about their friendship, something made better because of the nude games. Five months later Charlie would be sitting in the Asian Philosophy Center studying, something he took to doing, finding the library a particularly tranquil environment, when the alarm to evacuate the college sounded. He wouldn't find Harrison at home that afternoon, and in fact the boys would be separated at this point. Still, these five months of mutual fun, as well as respect, from his peer would do a lot to help Charlie survive the trials ahead. For now, however, there was just playful banter and afterglow as the two teens finished their first mutual session. At least, Charlie had thought they were done. But his erection didn't seem to be going down, and when he felt it to see if there was something wrong a wave of pleasure washed over him. His body was ready to go again (damn teenagers). Harrison looked at Charlie and smirked. The two shrugged at one another and took to their own erections once more, this time pounding more fervently for an orgasm that was a little more reluctant to occur. "I...uh...wow....can't believe you're ready to...ah...go again." "Mate...urgh...whatever...I can get in like five or six on one...ah...bone." "Really...oh! oh!...cool." "UGH!" "ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!"